


Blast from the Past

by IzzyWritesStuff



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24428611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyWritesStuff/pseuds/IzzyWritesStuff
Summary: In order to get out of attending his upcoming high school reunion, Castiel makes up a pregnant fiancé. However, instead of giving him an easy way out, he somehow ends up agreeing to bring his fake partner along for the weekend. After enlisting the help of his best friend Dean, chaos ensues and sparks fly.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter One

Dean was already on his second beer of the night, when he glanced at his phone for the umpteenth time. There were neither any new messages nor any missed calls, and it was close to nine o’clock already.

Huffing out a breath, he took another sip of his drink. His best friend was _never_ late, especially not for their weekly _guys’ night out_. In fact, nine times out of ten, Castiel arrived at their favorite hang-out spot in Brooklyn long before him.

Dean was just about to try and call his friend again, when the door opened and the missing man walked in. “Dude, where the hell have you been?!” Dean called.

“I screwed up,” were the first words out of Castiel’s mouth as he slumped down across from him.

Dean narrowed his eyes and observed his friend warily. Castiel was breathing heavily, as if he’d _run_ the ten blocks from his apartment, and his face was a bit flushed. The unkempt look was very uncommon for the usually so well put together writer. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

Burying his face in his hands, Castiel sighed loudly. “I did something really stupid.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that when you said _‘I screwed up’_ ,” Dean said and raised an eyebrow, nonverbally signaling his best friend to elaborate.

Reaching across the table, Castiel grabbed Dean’s beer and downed it in one go. When he slammed the empty bottle back down, he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and then finally looked up to meet his friend’s eyes. “I agreed to attend my high school reunion next month.”

“Okay…?” Dean said slowly, not sure why this was such a bad thing. Sure, he knew that Castiel didn’t really enjoy the full high school experience, not like he did anyway, but he didn’t understand why going back there to see his former classmates required such a freak-out.

Castiel rubbed his forehead. “I got the invite a few months ago but tossed it in the trash because I had absolutely no intentions of going.”

Dean briefly wondered if the beers he’s had were messing with his brain already because he was completely lost. “Cas, you’re not making any sense. What’s the big deal?”

“My former class president called me today. She hadn’t heard back from me, obviously because I never responded to the initial invitation, and wanted to know if I’d attend or not. When I said no, she wanted to know why. And then, for whatever reason, I told her that I don’t want to leave my pregnant fiancé alone right now because the pregnancy has been stressing him out.”

Dean blinked. “Cas, you don’t _have_ a pregnant fiancé.”

“I know that!” Castiel snapped. “I don’t even know why I said that! It just slipped out. I didn’t expect her to call and ask so many questions!”

Holding back a grin, Dean reached out and squeezed his best friend’s hand. “Relax, man. She’ll never even know you lied to her. It’s not like she’ll come here to fact-check it.”

“Yeah, no. I know,” Castiel replied and then averted his eyes. “It’s just that I kind of let myself be talked into bringing my fiancé to the reunion…”

Dean froze. “You did _what?”_

“I told you I fucked up!” Castiel yelped.

“That’s the understatement of the _century!”_ Dean replied and shook his head. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

Castiel dropped his head back in his hands. “I don’t know! She kept nagging me and said how the trip would be good for my fiancé and the baby and how the hotel has a great spa and all that stuff… I just said yes to get her off my back!”

“Cas, _again_ , you don’t have a fiancé to bring with you!” Dean reminded his best friend.

“Can we please skip the obvious part and try to find a solution for the _bigger_ issue?” he moaned and then added quietly, “I might have already made a room reservation and booked some activities…”

Dean groaned. When he met Castiel three years ago, he got to know the man as a calm, collected soul who didn’t do one uncalculated thing in his life. This was so completely out of character, Dean wasn’t even sure he was actually talking to Castiel Novak.

“I don’t even know what to say, man…” Dean muttered and rubbed his forehead. “I have no idea how to get you out of this mess.”

“I don’t know how this happened,” Castiel sighed. “But I do have a plan.”

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face. “It better be a good one.”

Leaning forward, Castiel fixed his best friend with his blue eyes. “Okay, so remember when you got so wasted, I had to carry you up three flights of stairs to your apartment and I strained my back in the process?”

Dean frowned. “Uh, yeah, kinda…”

“And when you made me come on that godawful double date with that hot chick and her gross best friend who kept licking my ear?”

“Yes…?”

“And then there was the Russian stripper on Times Square—”

“Okay, stop,” Dean interrupted him with a wince. He’s made Castiel promise to _never_ mention that night again. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, smugly. “You owe me.”

Dean blinked, confused, but when things finally clicked, his eyes widened. “Dude, no way!”

“Come on,” Castiel begged. “You’re my best friend and I _really_ need your help. It’s just for a weekend.”

Unable to even form words, Dean just stared at his friend. Sure, he’s done some fucked up and crazy things in the past, but this was just a bit too much. “You can’t be serious…”

“Deadly,” Castiel deadpanned.

His mind was still spinning and Dean tried to come up with any excuse as to why this was a phenomenally stupid idea. He came up with a few. “I’m not even pregnant!”

Castiel shrugged. “There’s a website that sells fake silicon baby bellies.”

“You already looked that up?!” Dean was stuck somewhere between being curious and absolutely horrified.

“Well, yeah…”

“Oh my god…”

“Dean, please,” Castiel said again, giving his friend his best puppy dog eyes. Dean huffed out a breath. Castiel _knew_ how much Dean struggled with saying “no” when someone gave him that look. Sam was still using it to this day to get Dean to do and agree to things.

“If this ends in a disaster, I’m blaming _you_. Got it?” Dean warned, pointing a finger at his friend.

Castiel grinned happily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Next round’s on me.”

“It better be,” Dean growled. “Now let me take a look at those ridiculous fake bumps.”

“No need. I already ordered you one,” Castiel smirked and slipped out of the booth to go to the bar.

“How’d you know I’d say yes?!” Dean called after him, not sure if he should be angry or impressed.

Looking over his shoulder, Castiel winked at him. “I can be very persuasive.”

With his mouth hanging open, Dean watched his best friend head over to the bar. He had a gut feeling that whatever they were doing was _not_ going to end well. “Get me a shot of tequila as well!” he yelled after his best friend, because needed something stronger than just beer.


	2. Chapter Two

“I changed my mind. I’m not doing it.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. He’d been expecting this fight, which is why he came prepared. “Dean, you promised,” he reminded his best friend. “Now take off your shirt and strap it on.”

Glowering, Dean took a step back when Castiel approached. “No.”

“Dean, I swear to god, if you don’t try it on _right now_ , I’ll knock you out and superglue the thing to your body!” Castiel threatened and narrowed his eyes.

“Fine,” Dean snapped and yanked the fake baby bump out of Castiel’s hands. Pulling up his shirt and keeping it in place with his teeth, he wrapped the belly around his flat middle and began fumbling with the straps that closed in the back.

After watching his best friend struggle for a while, Castiel dared to step closer. “Here, let me.”

“I got it,” Dean grunted, even though his fingers kept slipping on the hooks. He cursed under his breath.

“You’re going to rip it,” Castiel sighed and decided to just go for it. Slapping his friend’s hands out of the way, he took both ends of the straps and hooked them together. “There, all done.”

Slowly, Dean turned toward the mirror and grimaced when he saw his reflection. “I look ridiculous. And _fat!”_ he whined and tried to tug the shirt over the bump. It barely covered the navel.

“Quit being so dramatic,” Castiel said and began digging through the two paper bags he’d brought with him. The day before, he went shopping to buy some maternity clothes for Dean. The belly he’d ordered online was five to six months according to the website, and there was no way that Dean could fit it under his normal clothes. “Try this one,” he said and tossed his friend a shirt.

Holding the piece of clothing up to inspect, Dean scrunched up his nose. “This is the size of a tent.”

Castiel grinned at him. “Just wait until you see the pants.”

The horrified look on Dean’s face was worth the silent treatment he received for the rest of the day.

Two days later, they were sitting on a plane, traveling from New York City to Boston. While Castiel was engrossed in a book, Dean was anxiously bouncing his leg up and down. The nervous energy soon reached Castiel and he put the novel down with a sigh. Placing a hand on his friend’s bouncy knee he said, “Dean, relax. It’s just a one-hour flight. You’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” Dean ground out.

To be fair, Castiel really had forgotten about his best friend’s intense fear of flying. They’ve only flown together once before, shortly after meeting. It was a guys’ trip to Mexico and saying the flight was a disaster was putting it mildly.

“I think I’m gonna puke…” Dean groaned and turned a shade paler. Castiel managed to shove a sick sack under his friend’s chin just in time.

When they arrived at Boston International Airport, Dean was a mess. He was sweaty, pale and and in a terrible mood, which was why Castiel felt even worse when he ushered him into the men’s room and locked them both in a stall. “You need to put the bump on.”

 _“Now?”_ Dean groaned. “We’re not even at the hotel yet.”

“I know, but I’m not the only one flying in for the weekend. We can’t risk anyone seeing us, especially not you,” Castiel explained as he grabbed the silicon belly from his carryon suitcase.

Dean plopped down on the closed toilet seat. “You know when you said I owed you for all the things you’ve done? When this is over, _you_ owe _me!”_

“Okay, fine,” Castiel agreed, not in the mood to argue with his best friend in a public bathroom.

Strapping the bump on for the second time wasn’t any easier than the first. Dean kept swearing and Castiel struggled to close the hooks because Dean was moving around too much. After Castiel banged his elbow on the door handle for the third time, he lost his patience. “Jesus Christ! Hold _still!”_ he snapped.

“You’re not doing it right!”

“Yes, I am! Quit moving!”

A sharp knock on the door startled them both. “Airport Police, unlock this door.”

They both froze in shock. While Dean seemed to catch himself after a second or two, Castiel’s mind pulled a complete blank. How were they supposed to explain this?

Even though the belly was only semi-secure around Dean’s waist he pulled his shirt back down and before Castiel was aware of what was happening, his best friend went to his knees in front of the toilet bowl, shoved up the seat and began to make loud heaving noises.

“Unlock this door, right now!” came the command again, harsher this time.

With trembling fingers, Castiel undid the latch and let the door swing open. A burly police officer stared at him with narrowed eyes. “What is going on here?”

Before Sam could even come up with anything to say, Dean spoke up, “I’m sorry, officer. The flight’s been hard on me and the baby,” he croaked and placed a hand on his distended belly. Castiel winced when he saw that it was slightly crooked. But, to Castiel’s surprise, the officer’s gaze instantly softened.

“How many weeks along are you, sir?”

“Twenty-four,” Dean replied without batting an eye. “It’s our first.”

The officer nodded and even smiled. “Please excuse the disturbance. My wife suffered terrible morning sickness in her first trimester as well. Have a great day and take care of yourself,” he said and left without any other question. Castiel stared after him open-mouthed, before he looked down at Dean.

Dean got to his feet with a laugh. “You’re welcome,” he grinned, as he brushed past his best friend and headed to the row of sinks. “Now let’s get out of here before anyone else shows up. Oh, and by the way, you owe me extra for this.”

They arrived at the hotel an hour later. After another round of bickering, Dean had eventually allowed Castiel to properly wrap the baby bump around his middle in the backseat of the cab, and when they stepped into the lobby of the four-star hotel, Castiel had to admit that the fake belly looked scarily real.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. What can I do for you?” a chipper lady asked and gave them a wide smile.

“Hello. We’re checking in,” Castiel said. “Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friend poke and prod at his belly. When the woman was looking down to type something on her keyboard, he elbowed Dean in the side. “Stop that,” he hissed quietly. Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond.

“We got you in room 401,” the receptionist said. “It says in your reservation that you’re here for the Everett High School reunion? Here is an itinerary the organizers asked us to hand out. Enjoy your stay!”

Castiel accepted the paper with a smile. “Thank you.”

When he turned to walk to the elevators, Castiel watched Dean turn as well. He wanted to utter a warning to his best friend, because the vase with the pretty flower arrangement was dangerously close to his big belly, but it was too late. Dean knocked the vase off the table and it shattered into a thousand pieces. Broken glass, flowers and water was _everywhere_.

“Crap, I’m so sorry!” Dean apologized sheepishly and put a hand on his stomach. Castiel wanted to strangle him.

“Oh, honey, it’s no big deal,” the receptionist said with a kind smile. “Are you okay?”

Dean blinked. “Me? Oh, uhm, yeah. I’m fine. I just got a little dizzy,” he lied.

After ringing someone to come clean the mess up, the woman waved them closer again. “I know I said you’re in room 401, but let me just check real quick if there’s an upgrade available for you. Free of charge, of course,” she added and winked at them.

“Thanks, but that’s really not necessary,” Dean said. “Especially not after I destroyed your nice décor.”

The woman waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. They’re already bringing a new vase. In the meantime, why don’t you get comfortable in one of our junior suits?” she smiled and slid two new keycards across the counter. Looking at Dean, she added. “Get some rest. And if you’re interested, we do offer some fantastic massages for our pregnant guests.”

“Thank you so much. That’s very kind,” Dean replied.

As soon as they were in the elevator and the doors had slid shut, Dean looked down at himself. “I might be able to get used to thing after all,” he chuckled and gave his belly a pat. “It does come with its perks.”

Castiel only groaned out loud. What had he gotten himself into…


	3. Chapter Three

The second they entered their hotel room, Dean pulled up his shirt and _ripped_ the fake bump off his body. After tossing it onto the king-sized bed, he made a beeline for the minifridge and pulled out a beer. He cracked it open and drained the entire thing in one go. He needed that. He _deserved_ that.

“Feeling better?” Castiel asked with an eyeroll, as he tossed his suitcase onto the bed to unpack it for the weekend.

Dean scrunched up the empty beer can in his hand and threw it into the trashcan underneath the TV. The cold beer had felt heavenly, especially because that damned silicone belly felt like a heater around his waist. “I do, in fact,” he replied with a satisfied smirk.

Castiel had just opened his mouth to reply, when someone knocked on the door. Both their heads snapped up and they looked toward the discarded fake belly that was not where it was supposed to be.

“Take the thing and hide in the bathroom,” Castiel said.

With a sigh, Dean picked up the silicon bump and went into the bathroom. He closed the door behind his back but pressed his ear against it.

As soon as the door clicked opened, a shrill voice squealed out Castiel’s name. “Cassie, it’s so good to see you,” a female voice said overenthusiastically and even without being able to see his best friend’s face, Dean was sure that Castiel was grimacing.

“Naomi, hello,” Castiel replied stiffly, sounding much less pleased. “How are you?”

“We didn’t think you’d actually show up,” she blurted out. “We even had a little bet going on,” she added and laughed way too loudly. Dean scrunched up his nose. He hadn’t even met this Naomi lady in person yet and he already disliked her. She didn’t even give Castiel a chance to respond before her voice grew louder, indicating that she had moved further into the room. “So, Cassie, where is he? Where is that mysterious fiancée of yours no one’s ever heard of?”

“Dean’s in the bathroom. He’s not feeling well,” Castiel explained without missing a beat.

“Aw, come on, Cassie,” Naomi whined. “I just want to say hello. I’m so eager to meet him.” Her voice sounded terribly fake and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Now’s really not a good time,” Castiel said again. “You’ll meet him later.”

“You know, some people say you made him up.”

Having had enough of the intrusive and rude woman, Dean pushed off the door as he came up with a plan to get rid of her.

On the other side of the door, Castiel was desperately trying to keep Naomi from barging into the bathroom. She’d always been a nosy one and her manners didn’t seem to have improved any since high school.

“Naomi, please,” he sighed. “You’ll be able to meet Dean later.”

The redhead had just opened her mouth to protest, when a loud retching sound made both of them jump. Horrified, Castiel stared at the closed bathroom door. It sounded like someone was _dying_ in there.

“What’s wrong with him?” Naomi asked wide-eyed. There was more heaving and gagging and the woman took a step back. Her face was scrunched up in disgust.

Castiel shrugged. “I told you he’s not feeling well. But I guess if you _really_ want to meet him, you can go ahead and say hi.”

Her face paled. “Uhm, no. I think you’re right. I’ll meet him later,” she muttered, before she fled from the room. Shaking his head, Castiel closed and locked the door after her.

“She gone?” Dean asked as he cracked open the bathroom door an inch.

Chuckling, Castiel turned toward his best friend. “Yeah, she’s gone. Thanks to your little show.”

Leaning against the doorframe, Dean smiled smugly. “What can I say? I’m just really talented.”

“Uh-hu,” Castiel replied but couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. No one could ever accuse Dean of not being resourceful.

After a glance at his wrist watch, Castiel sighed. “We gotta get going. According to the schedule, there’s a gathering downstairs with welcome drinks and a buffet.”

Dean scrunched up his nose. “I have to put that thing back on _already_?” he whined and rubbed a hand over his flat stomach.

“Yes, you do,” Castiel answered with a nod. “It’s just for a few hours.”

Grumbling under his breath, Dean picked up the belly and wrapped it around his middle. Castiel could have sworn that there was a pout on his face. Biting his lip to keep from laughing, he turned around and rummaged through his suitcase for a fresh shirt.

In the elevator on their way down, Dean kept fidgeting and poking at the fake bump. When he dug his fingers into the side of it a bit too hard, Castiel slapped his hand away. “Stop that,” he hissed quietly and glanced at the elderly lady next to them. “You’re gonna make it all lumpy.”

Dean growled in response, but refrained from further prodding.

When they stepped off the elevator and followed the balloons, they eventually ended up in front of a table that had a sign attached to it that read _Welcome Class of 1996_. Castiel groaned inwardly when he saw Naomi sitting at said table. “Let’s do this,” he huffed quietly and grabbed Dean’s hand. He felt his best friend stiffen at first, but then relax. Together they made a beeline for the table.

The second Naomi saw Dean, her eyes widened almost comically. Her jaw dropped and Castiel couldn’t help but smirk at the surprise on her face. “Naomi, nice to see you again. Dumah,” he greeted the woman next to her, who looked equally as flabbergasted.

Naomi blinked. “Castiel. Who is—is _this_ your fiancée?” she fumbled for words, eyes flickering between the two of them.

“I am,” Dean spoke up and extended his hand. “I’m Dean, nice to meet you.”

Naomi opened and closer her mouth a few times before she took the offered hand and shook it. Her eyes traveled up and down his entire body and Castiel felt a strange sense of jealousy. He’d never been jealous of anyone who looked at or touched his best friend. However, this was different, because Dean was _pregnant with his child_! Well, not really, but Naomi didn’t know that!

“I hope you’re feeling better?” she asked Dean, gaze lingering on his belly.

“Uhm, yeah, thanks,” he muttered. “Morning sickness, you know how it is…”

“It’s the worst,” Dumah piped up. “You should try ginger tea. It’s done wonders for me.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, uh, yeah. I’ll remember that.”

Before the situation got any more awkward, Castiel quickly picked up their name tags from the table and ushered Dean toward the buffet. “It was nice catching up, but we need to get some food into his system.”

“Yes, of course,” Naomi agreed and let them go. As they left, Castiel could hear the two women whisper to each other in complete awe. It was both satisfying and hurtful that they never expected _him_ to end up with someone as gorgeous and wonderful as Dean.

They had barely set foot in the room, when two men approached them. Dean wanted to just shove past them and grab a drink. He was hot, sweaty and not in the mood for small talk.

“Castiel Novak,” the taller one laughed. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“Lucifer.”

The tension between the men was obvious and Dean moved a step closer to his best friend. “Cas, why don’t you introduce me to your _friends_?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, you must be the fiancée,” Lucifer said and gave his belly a pointed look. “Didn’t know Castiel had it in him.”

Balling his hands to fists, Dean took a threatening step forward. But a hand on his chest prevented him from whipping the smug smirk off the jackass’ face. “Dean, don’t,” Castiel warned.

Gritting his teeth, Dean forced his tight muscles to uncoil. He gave Lucifer and his friend a sharp look and grabbed Castiel’s hand. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

“Quite the bodyguard you got yourself there, Cassie,” the other man chuckled.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need him here. We won’t shove you in a locker or push your head into the toilet. We’re adults now, right?” Lucifer added and they both started to cackle.

The mental image of Castiel being bullied and tortured in high school made the anger Dean had successfully managed to pack away resurface. Whirling around, he grabbed Lucifer’s shirt and yanked him closer.

“Dean!” Castiel shouted and curled his fingers into the back of his best friend’s shirt. “Let him go!”

The smug smirk had disappeared from Lucifer’s face and he looked terrified. “Dude, chill. I was just kidding.”

“Dean!” Castiel hissed again and bodily yanked his best friend off his former class mate. “Enough!”

Reluctantly, Dean let go off Lucifer’s shirt. He could feel the other people’s eyes on them and took a step back. He ran a hand through his hair and took a calming breath. “Sorry,” he apologized to Castiel.

“Let’s get something to drink,” Castiel replied and grabbed Dean’s arm.

At the bar, Dean went straight for a glass of wine. Castiel snatched it out of his hand before he even had his fingers fully wrapped around it.

“What are you doing? You can’t drink alcohol,” Castiel reminded him and glanced down at his stomach. Picking up a glass of orange juice, he shoved it in Dean’s hand. “Drink this.”

Mood further souring, Dean reached out to pick up a cracker with salmon on top. Again, Castiel took it away. “You can’t have that.”

“Are you serious?!” Dean snapped. “It’s just food!”

“Pregnant people aren’t supposed to have raw fish or meat.”

Dean worked his jaw. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not _actually_ pregnant!”

“Well, you sure as hell _act_ like you are!” Castiel snapped.

Narrowing his eyes, Dean slammed the orange juice down on the table, spilling half of it. Without another word, he turned around and walked away. He ignored the way Castiel kept calling his name and disappeared into the crowd.


End file.
